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“Look out now, fellows; here goes for a high one!” “Aw come off; you can’t throw high without dislocating your arm, Peaches. Don’t try it.” “You get off the earth; I can so, Teeter. Watch me.” “Let Joe Matson have a try. He can throw higher than you can, Peaches,” and the lad who had last spoken grasped the arm of a tall boy, with a very fair complexion which had gained him the nickname of “Peaches and Cream,” though it was usually shortened to “Peaches.” There was a crowd of lads on the school grounds, throwing snowballs, when the offer of “Peaches” or Dick Lantfeld was made.
--This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.





--This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.